Golden light just barely crested the ocean view sill, washing the bamboo hut with early morning glow. Lydia entered the dining area with light steps and an easy smile, hair down and still slightly ruffled from the night. Kharjo followed her path with perked ears and grin from where he sat at the table, sorting a large pile of fruit and nuts he had gathered earlier.
She took her seat across the table from him and snatched a handful of nuts from the pile then proceeded to smash them with the hilt of her dagger.
“What!? Why are you still grinning at me,” demanded Lydia between strikes, her easy mood turning defensive under his grin.
“You look good.”
“Thanks,” she warily responds.
Kharjo took his time before continuing. Basking in her suspicion and waning patience, he started using his claws to carve geometric shapes he found pleasing from a melon. “This one sees a wall has breached, releasing much of life’s past, and…” his grin, widened further, “…letting new seeds inside.”
“What? Oh, by Talos, heard all that?” Lydia mumbled, suddenly turning beet red. Then after a brief pause, “wait you dirty Khajiit, were you spying on us!?”
Kharjo flattened his ears to his head and widened his cat eyes, “Kharjo is hurt good friend would accuse this one so. Sadly, Khajit are cursed to be of keen ear and nose and must endure the tales of the night, despite their high regard for privacy,” Lydia snorted at that, but he continued unperturbed, “This one even followed the moon, gathering this fine fair before you, to allow more seclusion. Kharjo likes island host and rude friend.”
With a sigh, “Sorry Kharjo, don’t think your cute antics have me fooled though.”
“Would never dream of it,” he responded, his Cheshire grin back in place so fast even Lydia had to smile. “So… does he use the Thum when going down—“
“Why you—“ Lydia lunged across the table with her dagger seeking the Khajiit’s throat only to collide into Vitus, whom blearily chose that moment to make an entrance by reaching between them for a coconut. Vitus slowly untangled himself from Lydia and looked from her to a melon shield with a new dagger attachment that a still grinning Khajiit held. He just shrugged and finished retrieving the coconut and used the dagger to stab a hole in it. Oblivious to his comrades’ discussion, he found a seat next to them, plucking a new shoot of bamboo from a wall along the way.
Vitus, still half asleep, stared at the thatch roof and rafters thoughtfully while using the shoot to sip from his coconut cup and tossing tree nuts into his mouth. Lydia went back to crafting a breakfast by forcefully dropping the crushed nuts and Kharjo’s craftsman fruit cutouts into a half shell of coconut milk. Kharjo was too busy smothering his laughter in a melon slice to protect his art. A strained silence held for some time until Vitus mused, “You know, if we added some diagonal bracing to the hut, it wouldn’t creak so much,” then flashing Lydia a grin, “from the night's breeze.”
She droped the spoon she had started whittling with an audible clatter and Kharjo finally lost the last of his composure, bursting into laughter.
Still sweaty from his morning sword practice, their island host stopped in confusion at the hut’s entrance and ran a hand through his long hair. Looking from the Khajiit rolling on the ground, to the imperial feigning innocence, and the glowering Nord, the Dovakiin asked:
“Did I miss something?”
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